How to Collect Exotic Oversized Jewelry

Teke style cordiform pendant (Turkmenistan, mid- to late 19th c.), silver, fire-gilded and chased with niello inlay, decorative wire, and table-cut carnelians

Teke style cordiform pendant (Turkmenistan, mid- to late 19th c.), silver, fire-gilded and chased with niello inlay, decorative wire, and table-cut carnelians

Take a peek at the accessories that two intrepid travelers spent years collecting in Central Asia and Iran – oversized jewelry that was so big they had to display it on a wall.  Now that Marshall and Marilyn Wolf have donated their collection to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Met has given it the star treatment, way up in that tiny magical Gallery 458 in the Islamic Art wing (which just welcomed its 1 millionth visitor a few weeks ago).

The dazzling show displays the 19th and 20th century creations of Turkmen craftsmen, whose ancestors roamed across Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, and northeastern Iran.

Although Marshall and Marilyn Wolf collected jewelry and ceremonial objects of four tribal styles, the Met’s show spotlights Teke style from Merv, a Turkmenistan city-oasis that was a major hub along the ancient Silk Road. The collectors fell in love with the dynamic pieces – crowns, pendants, pectorals, armbands, rings, and long, vertical ornaments that flowed down braids on the backs of Central Asian beauties. Recent craftsmen may use glass instead of semiprecious stones and carnelian, but in all the vitrines on the Met’s second floor, you’ll see the real thing.

Installation view with matching silver armlets (bilezik), whip, and double-finger matchmaker’s ring with turquoise and carnelians.

Installation view with matching silver armlets (bilezik), whip, and double-finger matchmaker’s ring with turquoise and carnelians.

Take a close-up look at the Met’s spectacular collection photos. When you click on an image, the Met also shows you different views and similar objects from its collection.

Take three minutes to hear Marshall and Marilyn Wolf talk about their passion, how and why they began their collection, explain how their gift plugged a hole in the Met’s own holdings, and show more of their truly stunning pieces.  Keep an eye on that second-floor gallery for more to come.

Inhale…The MAD Exhibit They Won’t Let You See

JickeyThere’s nothing to see…only to experience…in The Art of Scent 1889-2012 currently at the Museum of Art and Design. Designed by Diller, Scofidio + Renfro, the exhibition space is completely bare, save for gentle depressions pressed into the wall where visitors can lean in and experience fragrances considered masterworks of innovation and complexity.

Thank you to curator Chandler Burr for paying tribute to the artists that created these scents. The earliest is Jicky, created by Guerlain in 1889 when the Eiffel Tower was on the rise, the first designer fragrance to use synthetic components.

Walking through these design innovations is an experience you won’t forget. Can you tell that a 1980s fragrance was inspired by the smell of laundry detergent (the essence of “clean”)? Do you agree with Prada’s 1990s take on the romanticism of the 19th century? Do you think Untitled by Daniela Andrier for Margiela in 2010 combines “excitement and unease”, as MAD purports?

MAD has many videos to let you in on the process behind the ephemeral. Listen as Jean-Marc Chaillon discusses what it’s like to create something that can’t be touched:

Ever wonder about the work that goes into designing a celebrity fragrance? Listen in on this enlightening and entertaining curator’s panel on the design and structure of olfactory art:

Look Up to See Where Your Grandmother’s Clothes Came From

West 35th Street in 1938, looking east between Seventh and Eighth Avenues. Source: NYC Department of Records, Municipal Archives

West 35th Street in 1938, looking east between Seventh and Eighth Avenues. Source: NYC Department of Records, Municipal Archives

It can seem a little quiet walking over to Mood these days. Not too long ago, the streets above 34th Street between Sixth and Eighth Avenues were clogged with push boys, wheeling racks of  materials, trims, and fashions among jobbers, contractors, accessory importers, fabric stores, and showrooms. The way it used to be comes alive in the Skyscraper Museum’s show (closing today) Urban Fabric: Building New York’s Garment District.

In its heyday, those 18 blocks just north and west of Macy’s produced 75% of all US women’s and children’s clothes.  The exhibit tells the story of how this bustling hive happened.  In a nutshell, the old sweatshops in tenement buildings gave way to factory loft spaces in the 1890s around the area where NYU is today. When the big department stores emerged along Sixth Avenue and 23rd Streets, the lofts came with them. But the congestion proved to be a bit much for the female shoppers, who were disturbed by the throngs of guys loitering about on their lunch breaks, and the retailers took action.

The department stores (like Macy’s and Lord & Taylor) moved above 34th Street. To prevent the factory lofts from overwhelming them again, the City implemented the first zoning ordinance in America in 1916. The garment makers, closed out of the fancy retail neighborhood, started razing the Tenderloin District on the West Side and erecting architect-designed skyscrapers (like the Fashion Tower on West 36th) from that point on. About 125 buildings went up on those 18 blocks before the Depression hit.

Here’s a glimpse of what it was like in 1952:

As recently as the 1970s, carts were still being shuttled through the narrow streets, but we know how that story ended.  Today, no one even looks up at the entrances, set-backs, lobbies, or embellishments of these once grand hubs where models, marketers, Mad Men, laborers, seamstresses, teamsters, pattern makers, the designers co-mingled.

Interestingly enough, not a single building is landmarked. In fact, the Skyscraper Museum had trouble even finding photographs of the original buildings and had to turn to historic adverts and early brochures on factory electricity.

For the full, fascinating story by the curator who unearthed it all, listen to Andrew Dolkart of Columbia University, and watch his slide show:

Interns and staff built a nice model of the buildings lining 37th Street for the show, and a big thank you to The Skyscraper Museum for (again) putting the history and installation walkthrough on line. Tell your friends, and be sure to look up next time you walk over to Mood.

Thin, Rich, and MAD Embrace of the Middle East

Martin Munkácsi photo of Doris in an ensemble that is in the exhibition. Source: Doris Duke Charitable Foundation Historical Archives, Duke University.

Martin Munkácsi photo of Doris in an ensemble that is in the exhibition. Source: Doris Duke Charitable Foundation Historical Archives, Duke University.

Walking into MAD’s soon-to-close exhibit, Doris Duke’s Shangri La: Architecture, Landscape, and Islamic Art, what do you see? An architect’s model of a small palace by the sea, dazzling objects that adorned it, exotic loungewear inspired by faraway ports of call, Vogue-worthy jewelry, and photographs of a young socialite/philanthropist consulting with master craftsmen in busy Iranian and Moroccan workshops off the world’s most ancient streets.

As you examine these bits and pieces of Shangri La and its history, there’s a single vision that emerges – a portrait of a woman who knew about light, color, beauty, form, design, artistry, history, and had the vision, passion, and resources to put it all together in a way that any interior designer, fashionista, curator, and global traveler would envy.

Here’s the story line: In 1935, Doris Duke fell in love, went on a round-the-world honeymoon with James Cromwell, and fell in love again – with the exotic sights, sounds, patterns, textures, and artisanal wonders of the Middle East. Followed everywhere by reporters, she and James sojourned for months through Palestine, Jordan, Egypt, and the Indian subcontinent, marveling at the dazzling historic architecture, sinuous designs, luxurious carpets, lattice metalwork, colorful tile, and bejeweled ornament.

Tim Street-Porter’s photo of Doris’s dining room at Shangri La (2011) Source: DDFIA

Tim Street-Porter’s photo of Doris’s dining room at Shangri La (2011) Source: DDFIA

She just had to have it, and when she and James landed in Hawaii, she knew that no home in Palm Beach was going to cut it. They bought an ocean-view lot on the Big Island and began constructing a dream house. Her architects hewed to her vision — to create a seaside home into a tribute to the Islamic architecture and design that thrilled her imagination.

They brought artists and designers in from Iran, Syria, India, and Morocco to work on the home, and Doris herself traveled went back to check on progress in the home-country workshops and buy more. Eventually, she amassed one of the largest private collections of Islamic art in the world. Peruse her collecting timeline.

The actual home (now christened Doris Duke Foundation for Islamic Art) is now open to the public. Take time to explore Shangri La on the virtual tour. It hosts not only a 2,500-item collection, but thought-provoking installations by contemporary artists. (So does the show.) Here’s a video of artist Shahzia Sikander sharing what it felt like to project her light installations on this magical dream house.

For more history, watch the curators’ video. Doris’s vision, taste, and style will be on view at MAD for a few more days, then tour museums across the country.

You’ll never walk through the Islamic Wing at The Met again without thinking, “What would Doris do with this?”

Meet The Building You Didn’t Know at NYHS

Installation view featuring photos of the Whitehall Building (17 Battery Place), Grand Central Terminal, the Free Public Baths (538 East 11th), and the interior of the Plaza Hotel

Installation view featuring photos of the Whitehall Building (17 Battery Place), Grand Central Terminal, the Free Public Baths (538 East 11th), and the interior of the Plaza Hotel

In one of the most deceptively simple installations at the New-York Historical Society, visitors can’t stop looking, reading, absorbing, talking, and pointing.  The Landmarks of New York show was humming all last weekend, with exhibition goers moving up and down the staid second-floor hallway, quietly moving from photo to photo learning stuff about buildings they’ve seen a million times.

Did you ever think the entire history of New York could be told in 90 identically framed photographs? Take a look at a few of the 1,287 landmarked buildings in NYC. Since the NYHS web site does not contain any of these buildings’ compelling stories, run up to their second floor before the show closes.

The show pays tribute the 1965 Landmarks Law and resulting Landmarks Commission, established in the wake of the greatest architectural disaster in the history of the modern City – the 1963 destruction of the historic Penn Station.  Today, 30,000 structures are protected, and the photos show you some of the exteriors, interiors, and scenic landmarks of our five boroughs.

Installation view of John Bowne House (1661) photo by Jeanne Hamilton

Installation view of John Bowne House (1661) photo by Jeanne Hamilton

Which are the oldest? The Wyckoff House, built sometime before 1641, at 5816 Clarendon Road, Brooklyn, and the oldest surviving home in Queens, the 1661 John Bowne House. The label copy says that Bowne had a huge flare-up with Peter Stuyvesant over his ban on the Quaker religion (actually, he was arrested), which led Bowne to lend his sliver of Flushing to regular meetings of the Quaker community.

Nothing in Manhattan even come close, although 1764 St. Paul’s Chapel is the oldest surviving church. Did you know it was modeled upon St. Martin-in-the-Fields on London’s Trafalgar Square?

This exhibit is packed with story after story of places you pass all the time. Charlie Parker’s Residence at 151 Avenue B is a landmark, partly because Charlie lived there between 1950-1954, but also because Franz Kline did, too.

Lucky for us, that the City has posted all of the Historic District Maps for each borough. Or go to the interactive city map and click on “Landmarks” to see what’s in your neighborhood. Who knew Greenpoint has the Eberhard Faber Pencil Company Historic District? Adventures await. Get to know a building.

1890s Pleasure Island (Staten) Honored at MCNY

Installation view of woolen bathing suit (1905) and images of the 1890s Staten Island shore

Installation view of woolen bathing suit (1905) and images of the 1890s Staten Island shore

Over 100 years ago, the 59-mile square island rising up over New York harbor was the epitome of chic, cool sport – fantastic beaches, sunny farmland through which the well-heeled could enjoy an energetic fox hunt, and where one could witness the latest in tennis and cricket gear, to say nothing of the first tennis tournament in the United States.

It was all happening on Staten Island, playground to the upper, upper middle class, as chronicled in the Museum of the City of New York’s show, From Farm to City: Staten Island, 1661-2012. The shows covers the recent history of bridge-building and suburban development, but among the most fascinating parts of the show are those chronicling how our sometimes-forgotten borough gave the birth to modern sporting culture.

The Dutch bought it all from the Lenape in 1657, and SI thrived for centuries as the food supplier to Manhattan and the home of the overland stage service, operating between Philadelphia and Manhattan.

Alice Austen's photo of Tennis Clothing (1893). Source: Alice Austen House

Alice Austen’s photo of Tennis Clothing (1893). Source: Alice Austen House

But in the late 1870s, the Staten Island Cricket and Baseball Club became the epicenter of the lawn tennis craze (imported from England via Bermuda), and by the 1890s, the edge of the island had boardwalks and amusements to rival Coney Island.

Victorian sporting culture was well documented by Staten Island photography pioneer Alice Austen, whose photos have been enlarged to wall murals by the curators to convey the sense of fun, sun, and cachet in the exhibition. The historic home where she grew up has recently posted her work online, an incomparable look at everyday life here in the 1890s.

Richmond County Hunt Club in 1895. Source: MCNY

Richmond County Hunt Club in 1895. Source: MCNY

If you want to compare the past with today on Staten Island, MNCY has done a spectacular job of taking its historic maps and putting them into digital overlay of today’s world. Check out this great online resource to view the view in 1750 or 1829 compares to today. Click on the blue dots to see images of what used to be.

Extreme Renaissance Sportswear Back at The Met

JoustAfter a brief Yuletide absence, the spectacular Armor for the Joust of Peace has been returned to the Great Hall of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, just inside the main entrance, to honor 100 years of the Arms and Armor Department.

Not seen in all its splendor since the 1980s, you’re looking at what extreme sports dressing looked like back in 1500. It all took place as the Renaissance was dawning across Europe, so this outfit was designed for safety and sport – not combat. The objective: unseat your opponent during a horseback charge across an open field with a blunt lance.

Jousts happened on open fields without barricades to separate the horses, so the horse’s head armor completely covered its eyes (yes, galloping blind). A straw-filled bumper hung around his chest for protection. This jouster’s wear was super-heavy (over 80 pounds for the body and 21 for the helmet), with the padded helmet physically bolted to the body armor to protect against whiplash when the inevitable impact occurred.

Solid covering over the horse's eye

Solid covering over the horse’s eye

The Met’s first curator of arms, Bashford Dean, found this German ensemble (even though some pieces were missing) and purchased it in 1904, setting the stage for many, many subsequent acquisitions (oh, about 14,000 more).  It lacked an original helmet, but when Dean saw the one on display (an 1891 recreation made by Parisian armorer superstar Daniel Tacheaux), Dean not only snapped it up, but hired Tacheaux to be the Met’s first armor conservator.

The shield and upper-thigh protectors are also restorations, and so is the horse’s brocade and velvet. But standing so close to this magnificent mount below the arches of the Great Hall, it’s easy to imagine you’re hearing the hoofbeats and roar of the sports crowd, and know that it’s not coming from the gift shop.Detail

Party Like It’s 1913 at Grand Central

Just after the clock strikes midnight on GCT's 100th birthday

After the clock struck midnight on GCT’s 100th birthday

At midnight tonight, the crews, security, police, and station manager were on hand to see the famous clock above the information desk signal the beginning of Grand Central Terminal’s 100th birthday. Just like a film set, everyone was concentrating on pulling magic out of a hat for the public birthday celebration that begins today.

If you’re within commuting distance, get over to Grand Central today to rub shoulders with celebrities, artists, and officials commemorating 100 years of our beautiful terminal.   At 10am, see Cynthia Nixon, our poet laureate Billy Collins, Keith Hernandez, Caroline Kennedy, Melissa Manchester, and (yes) the Vanderbilt family pay tribute in a rededication birthday celebration.

Check the web site for the afternoon schedule of honors, music, giveaways, and  1913 prices (one day only!)  for shoe shines (10¢), fries (10¢), loaves of rye bread (6¢), pasta (5¢), and cocktails at Michael Jordan’s (75¢).

IMG_1706Also, be sure you seek out the replica of the Terminal made out of Lego bricks in the Station Master’s Office. Then, dance the afternoon and night away (until 9:30) with Grammy Award-winning big band Vince Giordano and the Nighthawks. The celebration continues all year, but more on that later.

If you can’t get there, enjoy the new history timeline from your desktop (especially the part in 1976 with Jackie).

Or watch the Metro-North guys polishing up the chandeliers in Patrick Cashin’s photos on the MTA Flickr feed.

Design Driven by Necessity at MoMA

The latest design show at MoMA features something that we can’t live without.

Installation view of @ (1971), ITC American typewriter medium, at MoMA

Installation view of @ (1971), ITC American typewriter medium, at MoMA

You’d never think that @ was a design invention, but it was created in 1971 by Ray Tomlinson, the inventor of the first email system in the United States. The @ made it into MoMA’s design collection and stars there in the show, Born Out of Necessity.

Tomlinson developed it for ARPAnet, because he thought it would be more efficient than using arcane programming language to tell data messages where to go. MoMA says that there’s not a lot agreement as @’s genesis – some say it goes back to the 6th century (from Latin scribes). Others say it’s from the 16th century (Venetian abbreviation for the “amphora” measurement unit), or Norman French  (for “each at” a particular price). Whatever.

The little symbol began appearing on typewriter keyboards in the 19th century, so it eventually migrated to our computer and iPad keyboards, and that’s where Tomlinson got ahold of it. History was made.

Another design star in the show came from the military budget, too — a Utility ¼-Ton 4 X 4 Jeep. Jeep

You may be surprised to know that Jeeps and MoMA go way back to 1951, when they included one in a design exhibit. Quick assembly, fast part-swapping, and portability (when disassembled) for transport made it a design winner. Although this Jeep is from 1952 (just light modifications over the previous model), MoMA says it’s the best military Jeep ever built anywhere.

The show includes an array of other interesting design innovations triggered by need – like Oxo’s Good Grip handles on kitchen items, new-fangled inflatable life rafts that don’t tip in high waves, collapsible wheelchairs, and hand-cranked radios (originally designed for the Third World, but just as useful here during blackouts and hurricanes).

The show closes today, but the @ and the other stuff will be with us for a long, long time.

Is David Roentgen the 18th Century Steve Jobs?

David Roentgen’s Game Table (ca. 1780–83). Oak, walnut, veneered with mahogany, maple, stained maple, holly, stained holly; felt; leather, partially tooled and gilded; iron and steel fittings; brass and gilt bronze mounts. Source: Metropolitan Museum, Pfeiffer Fund, 2007.

David Roentgen’s Game Table (ca. 1780–83). Oak, walnut, veneered with mahogany, maple, stained maple, holly, stained holly; felt; leather, partially tooled and gilded; iron and steel fittings; brass and gilt bronze mounts. Source: Metropolitan Museum, Pfeiffer Fund, 2007.

Even if David Roentgen didn’t produce for the mass-market, he certainly seemed to have written Steve’s playbook  — wow them with innovative design, refined surfaces, exacting craftsmanship, playful art, and sophisticated multimedia integration. Oh, and if that’s not enough, why not make it passkey protected and portable, too? Like Steve, David knew how to turn engineering into art and ka-ching.

Experience out-of-the-box design innovation in the closing week of the Metropolitan Museum’s unforgettable show, Extravagant Inventions, Princely Furniture of the Roentgens. The beauty of the marquetry and fittings on the displayed desks, sofas, clocks, commodes, and rolltop desks would be enough, even if they simply occupied a quiet corner of a drawing room or boudoir.

But if an 18th-century king, queen, or royal saw them in action – revealing hidden apps for writing, reading, drawing, music, games, curios, and hiding the desktop – there was no turning back. The mechanical furniture was so desirable that wealthy trend-setters just had to have it (like iPads).

What social-minded gamer could resist Roentgen’s 1780s Game Table if they saw David’s demo?

The desire to own and show off the most up-to-date artistic engineering marvel had royals running for their strongboxes to put down deposits on anything Roentgen could produce. In fact, the Met tells us that the Berlin Secretary Cabinet, the star of the show, is probably the most expensive piece of furniture ever produced. And we can’t even begin to discuss robot Marie Antoinette playing the dulcimer, or the clocks that turn into orchestras.

When the French Revolution put an end to sales at Versailles, Roentgen cut out the curliques, tailored the outer design to a sleeker look, and shifted his retail operations to Russia. Catherine and her court bought the newer stuff by the cartload.

The Met has an entire YouTube playlist devoted to these 18th century wonders, and you really should peruse them all. Get to the show in the final week and see what another style and multimedia-obsessed generation spent their money on.

And lest it slipped your mind, Steve and Woz’s first Apple 1 computer was assembled within a wooden case. Maybe it’s good that David and his engineering/sales team weren’t around to critique it.